


Subject 523

by Asher523



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Original Work
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, How Do I Tag, Human Experimentation, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Laboratories, Non-Canonical Violence, Poor Life Choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 23:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16074098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher523/pseuds/Asher523
Summary: 523 was created after a corrupt scientist's child. Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out when he was locked away for an absurd amount of time due to his... er.. violent tendencies. So what happens when he is let out of his room by Kitty, a fellow test subject hellbent on making him her friend?





	1. slow

My eyes shut as she reaches, and I swallow down the moment of panic. Her hand lingers just against the tangles for a moment before it settles carefully on top of my head, and it feels like I've been burned. The muscles in my neck spasm for a moment, and it my skin is practically trying to crawl away from her. The shock soon gives way to a dull ache. Her hand stays for a minute before she starts carefully pulling at and parting the mess. It's alright now. My shoulders relax and all that's left is an uncomfortable prickling.

"I'm going to have to cut some of this off." She speaks softly, and her voice is tight like she's holding back questions. I'm not sure if I could answer them, so I don't pry.

I nod silently, and she pulls sections of my hair aside, careful not to let it clump into one mass. My whole body jumps and panics when I feel cold metal. 

"Don't do that!" she squeaks, pulling away the scissors. "You're lucky I'm fast."

There's nothing I can do to stop that reaction, and I wish I could tell her that, but the rush to my system is keeping my thoughts too jumbled to reach my mouth.

"Slow." I say instead, through a breath, and I can't see her face but the pause before she tries again to cut the section of hair tells me she might have listened. 

She tugs, and it's painful but I'm sure she's trying, right? She has to work at it, so it reminds me more of a saw than scissors. Still, I don't feel blood, so that must mean there's no harm done.

"You have-" she briefly pauses to snip a particularly offensive bit, "-mats. Really bad. It's going to take me forever to deal with it, but the stuff in the front is a little better. I can shave this area once I cut out the worst.. Maybe we can just work out an undercut."

I don't understand, but from her tone of voice, it's not a good situation. Time passes slowly, and I grow used to it. It's actually kind of nice. I don't think there can be any ulterior motive to making my hair feel nice, so the danger has passed, or at least, according to the conscious parts of my brain.

I still feel like I'm going to be sick.

When she's done with the pulling and snipping, she scoots backwards and assesses me from a distance. I glance her way and she's frowning, but it turns into a smile when she notices I'm looking.

"I... I'm sure I can make this work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are very few mentions of the original FMA characters, as this is based on a roleplay my friend and I have had going for about 5 years. This story takes place in Greed's lab, but he has absolutely nothing to do with canon Greed, for example.
> 
> Hope that saves you from any confusion! 
> 
> These are going to be pretty short chapters, but they should be coming at least once a week. I will be reading (and hopefully responding to) all comments, so please leave one if you liked it, or leave one telling me what you didn't! <3


	2. unidentifiable nature smells

It smells wonderful.

It's been hours of work, and my hair is still tangled and tied into little sections, but now it's started to puff out instead of scrunching. The stuff she used smells like... good things.

I can't place it, but I can smell it against the sheets on her bed, which us another thing I am a very big fan of. She's letting me borrow hers until I can find an empty room so I can have my own. I can't ask Greed for one. He can't know I'm out here.

After all this, I don't want to be locked in again. Here feels new and wonderful, and- and- bed.

I really really like the bed.

I press my face further into the pillow and my arms into the squishy cool softness. It's like I'm resting on a pile of clothes, but way less lumpy and hard. I know I've felt it before, and it used to be something I had every night, but this is surely one of the things I forgot about. If I knew about this, I would have broken out of my room a lot faster than I did.

It feels good to lie down in the first place, but on something like this?

I don't want to leave, and the thought of needing to be anywhere else is a little scary. Without thinking, I pull the blanket up so it covers my shoulders.

Seems like old habits can come back after all. I know it won't protect me, not like I thought it would when I was little. He can still see me here. He can still pick me up and take me back. Needles go through blankets. Or maybe he'd shoot me again, just to take me down faster than the drugs can. That way I can't fight him so easy.

My head's under the blanket, too, and I don't know quite when it got there. My breathing warms the space in my new little fort. It's nice here. Nice here, secure here, good here. It's heavy and soft, and has unidentifiable nature smells.

If everything feels really nice, that means safety. That has to be how things work, right? Right.


	3. a piece of cake

Everything is foggy, and the first thing I notice is the soft give as I shift to test my strength. This isn't my room. Am I in the hospital?

Only then do I notice the lack of tubes in my arm. Not there, then. Maybe there was an emergency and I was moved..?

I rub the sleep from my eyes as I wait for my memory to catch up to the fact that I'm awake, and the room starts getting more familiar. Right. Kitty brought me here. She followed my instructions for some reason and managed not to burn me when she cut me out. 

Those cords Greed uses are no joke. It usually takes me way longer to escape, and even then I usually have to break a few bones so I can fit through. Then there's the issue of the door...

This time was a lot nicer. Plus, I have Kitty, and she can take the blame for me. I look around the room to find where she ended up and spot her asleep on the floor. She probably should stay asleep, just so she doesn't accidentally cut me next time she wants to tame my hair. I'd like her to be well rested.

My legs swing over the side of the bed with minor difficulty. I wish I cared more about my muscle health while I was locked up. These little things won't take me very far. I don't know how to fix them, so I'll just have to try my best. One thing's for sure, physical therapy isn't an option. They'll just report me to Greed. If I get reported, it's plan B, and that's not something I want to think about.

If I can stay in this room, they'll never find me, though. They would have to check every damn room in this lab, and that's not happening. I can keep under the radar and befriend more, carefully and slowly. There's just one problem:

They're going to know I'm gone when they try to feed me.

There's no going back after 12:00 today. Then, there's an alarm and anyone would turn me in, all for a piece of cake.

Those stupid traitors.


End file.
